Hidden Layers

Workshop of Joos van Cleve, “The Holy Family,” 1485–1541/2, oil on wood, the Edith A. and Percy S. Straus Collection, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, 44.528

A master of the Antwerp Guild from 1511 to 1512, Joos van Cleve ran a large workshop with numerous assistants, producing many small devotional paintings for ecclesiastical and private patrons. A number of standard compositions were repeated with minor variations, and they vary enormously in quality. This version of “The Holy Family” is one of several similar works in which the Christ Child is shown either standing or lying in his mother’s lap.

Pieter Claeissens I, “The Mass of Saint Gregory,” after 1530, oil on panel, Sarah Campbell Blaffer Foundation, 1979.107

This painting of “The Mass of Saint Gregory,” with the long signature in Latin at the bottom right, is one of only a few works securely documented as being by the hand of Pieter Claeissens I. The attribution of other paintings to the artist has long presented a challenge, as the sizeable Claeissens family—seven artists over three generations—was heavily involved in art production in Bruges during the 16th and 17th centuries, and different family members closely collaborated.

Examination of the painting by infrared reflectography reveals extensive underdrawing, much of which is visible to the naked eye. The fluid qualities of the lines and pooling at the end of the strokes, ending in differently sized loops or hooks, indicate a freehand drawing done in a liquid medium with a brush. Architectural perspective lines have been drawn with a straight edge. It is possible that the artist was working from a fully developed compositional drawing and then embellished details directly on the panel.

Shading is indicated by hatching with parallel lines, which, as the shadow darkens, are drawn closer and closer together.

The figures in the background and above the altar are also underdrawn but are less heavily hatched.

The majority of the painting closely follows the underdrawing. However, some alterations are evident, particularly among the details above the altar. Judas, with his bag of silver around his neck, was first placed higher and farther to the right; the flagellation column was initially also more to the right; and the ladder was originally on the other side of Christ.

Even though Bartolomeo Veneto was a highly skilled and evocative portraitist and
painter of private devotional pictures, he was ignored by art writers in the 16th century and “rediscovered” only in the mid-19th century.
Bartolomeo was probably born in either Venice or Cremona by 1480. Details of
his life and career remain obscure, and the identities of most of his sitters
are unknown. He worked in several cities in Northern Italy in addition to
Venice, almost certainly including Milan, where this “Portrait of a
Lady” was probably painted. | Bartolomeo Veneto, “Portrait of a Lady,” c. 1518–20, oil on panel, Sarah Campbell Blaffer Foundation, 1984.26

“Portrait of a Lady” is consistent in format and pose with Bartolomeo’s other portraits, most of which show the sitter in bust-length or half-length, the upper body generally parallel to the picture plane. The face is usually angled toward the viewer’s left, the direction from which light falls on the subject, casting the other side of the face in shadow but allowing for reflected light along the jawline. On the right side of the parapet in this painting sits a small jar, which probably indicates that the sitter is portrayed in the guise of Saint Mary Magdalene, whose attribute is an alabaster jar from which she poured perfume on Jesus’s head or feet, as recounted in all four of the Gospels.

Unknown Painter from the Southern Netherlandish School, “The Baptism of Christ,” 1520s, oil on panel, Sarah Campbell Blaffer Foundation, 1978.2

“The Baptism of Christ” is a complex picture of exceptionally high quality, and it has been suggested that the artist is from the circle of Jan de Beer, one of the greatest of the so-called Antwerp Mannerists. These artists broke with the tradition of early 15th-century Netherlandish art by introducing figures in expressive poses and setting them in elaborate landscapes or architectural spaces.

The meticulous painting technique of “The Baptism of Christ” contrasts with the energetic freedom of the black chalk or charcoal underdrawing initially used to set out the composition on a white ground. The artist made several changes from the underdrawing during the process of painting.

The head of the crouching figure, who wears a white robe with red stockings and removes a shoe, perhaps in preparation for baptism, was originally higher and at a different angle and was executed with the eyes open.

Significant changes were also made to the raised arm and hand of the red-capped man at right.

Changes were made to the figures at the left of Saint John, where the fingers of the hands extend beyond the original reserve planned for them. The newly extended fingers direct the gaze toward the baptism.

Trees and landscape details were sketched with a spirited shorthand. When the large tree at upper right was painted, the leafless branches of the underdrawing were reduced to an even simpler network. In contrast, only summary strokes indicate the mountain contours in the underdrawing, which are then more carefully detailed in paint.

The underdrawing hidden beneath this sumptuous depiction of the biblical figure Mary Magdalene reveals clues about the complicated relationship between artist Michele Tosini and artist/historian Giorgio Vasari, for whom Tosini worked from the mid-1550s. Infrared reflectography reveals a brilliant, extensive freehand underdrawing on the white gesso ground, done very quickly and finely with metal point or black chalk throughout the work. The freedom of the drawing is remarkable, defining the figure and draperies in sweeping curves, with tighter loops for the features and hair.

The drawing of the right hand, holding the book, is fairly detailed, although shifted somewhat at the painting stage; the left hand, holding the jar, is much more summary and roughly indicated.

The right breast that appears in the underdrawing would have aided the artist’s treatment of pose, drapery, and proportion and may suggest an original study from the nude. There are some small adjustments between the drawing and painting stages: the pupil in the Magdalene’s left eye was lowered, and the position of the medallion on her chest was slightly changed.

It appears that the cartoon for the Christ Child was shifted at least twice. At one point it was placed farther to the right and tilted at a 30-degree angle, seen in the detail of the proper right ear. Another shift occurs with the outer line of the face, which was eventually moved more to the left. Giuliano Bugiardini evidently rethought the exact placement and angle of the Child’s head before completing the rest of the drawing.

Giuliano Bugiardini later adjusted the hand holding the book by elongating the forearm and enlarging the hand, while keeping the same upper arm and shoulder line. This more-substantial change may have deviated from the cartoon entirely.

The background landscape was drawn freehand, and, though Giuliano Bugiardini still uses a precise touch for details such as an oak tree, he seems less concerned with working out the exact placement. The only change evident during the painting stage is the removal of an angular fold on the Madonna’s proper right shoulder—covered with blue sky—to make the slope of the shoulder gentler.

“The Annunciation to the Shepherds” was a common
subject in Dutch art at the turn of the 17th century. In his large painting
of the subject, Joachim Wtewael shows dark clouds of the night sky split with
“the brightness of God” shining on a group of shepherds, who are pictured
in various states between sleep and bewilderment at the heavenly apparition. | Joachim Wtewael, “The Annunciation to the Shepherds,” 1606, oil on canvas, Sarah Campbell Blaffer Foundation, 2006.1

A final compositional drawing may have immediately preceded this painting, as there is very little being worked out on the canvas itself. But infrared reflectography reveals that Joachim Wtewael applied some underdrawing in paint, especially around the hat of the central shepherd looking up to the angels, and made several changes, especially in the head and tail of the dog at lower right.

Domenico
Tintoretto, “Tancred
Baptizing Clorinda,” c. 1586–1600, oil
on canvas, the Samuel H. Kress
Collection, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, 61.77

Paintings by Venetian Mannerist Domenico Tintoretto share stylistic qualities with the work of his father, renowned painter Jacopo Tintoretto. Technical investigations of this painting, considered to be by Domenico, suggest that father and son were also alike in their artistic practice. In this scene from the epic poem “Jerusalem Delivered” about the First Crusade, the grieving Tancred kneels to baptize his dying love Clorinda, whom he mistakenly wounded. Infrared reflectography reveals a grid pattern under Tancred’s body, indicating that the crusader’s kneeling form was transferred onto the canvas from a drawing. Transfer grids (squaring) allow proportions to be maintained when replicating a smaller image on a different (usually larger) scale. Small squared drawings attributed to Jacopo, now in the British Museum, are almost certainly the sources for Tancred, suggesting that the younger artist had access to his father’s figure studies.

Paolo Veronese, “Portrait of a Lady as Saint Agnes,” 1580s, oil on canvas, Sarah Campbell Blaffer Foundation, 1982.14

One of the most important painters in the Venetian Renaissance, Veronese is primarily known for his paintings of biblical and religious history, classical mythology, and allegory. He was also a successful portraitist. This Veronese painting is very unusual, possibly unique, in that it seems to combine features of a portrait, a traditional Venetian image of an ideally beautiful woman, and the depiction of a saint. The sitter rests her hand on a lamb, the attribute of early Christian martyr Saint Agnes, who maintained her virginity rather than marry a pagan. She also holds a prayer book in which a text from the second chapter of the Gospel of Luke is partially visible. Given her opulent dress, her evident piety, and the reference to Saint Agnes, the painting has been interpreted as a portrait of a young woman, perhaps herself named Agnes, possibly on the eve of her marriage.

X-radiography shows that Veronese made numerous changes to the picture as he painted it. He seems to have changed his mind about the background, painting a green curtain over what had originally been foliage.

In one area, the x-radiography reveals Veronese’s working with a form—the sitter’s thumb holding open the prayer book—until he painted it to his satisfaction.

Veronese also made significant changes to the sitter’s attire, painting over a pearl earring as well as an ornate gold necklace, for which a more-restrained veil around the sitter’s shoulders has been substituted.

Prominent circular forms visible in the x-radiograph around the sitter’s shoulders may be connected with Veronese’s method of constructing the figure in a series of bold arcs. An infrared reflectogram also helps reveal subtle changes that Veronese made to the sitter’s face, especially to the eyes and eyebrows. All these alterations show the care with which Veronese attempted to achieve a nuanced portrayal of both sitter and saint.

Jacopo da Empoli, “The Virgin and Child with the Young Saint John the
Baptist,” c. 1575, oil on poplar panel, the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, 2016.147

Florentine painter Jacopo Chimenti, called “da Empoli” after his father’s birthplace, was a notable follower of Florentine Mannerist Jacopo Pontormo. This early work closely follows an important Pontormo painting, “Madonna and Child with the Young Saint John,” now in the Corsini Collection in Florence. The two works share the elongated forms characteristic of the Mannerist style, and the face of the Virgin is markedly similar in both. One difference is the placement of the Virgin’s right arm and hand. In Jacopo da Empoli’s painting, her hand extends to the lower part of the work behind Saint John and rests on the side of his torso; in Pontormo’s version, it is raised across her body, touching the arm and chest of the Christ Child.